An artist's house, Not my idea of

Not my idea of an artist's house.

'this is the place'
The house was white
of tripping-ups and triumphs
An empty plate
memories slide down the walls
Plain and clean and white-bread white
secretly chewing sweeties mouth
Tasteless cavity
treasured bottles of sand
Clutter bagged and binned
scoffed a cake of soap
Rubber gloves and antiseptic
fond slug found in salad leaves
Letters of complaint
odd socks and origami
Creases straightened out
not so bad
Not good enough
a fat stash of artistic plans
Blank as the canvases pilled in the studio

Quiet box, close the lid.